AIYA ELENION ANCALIMA
by arwenfrodogurl
Summary: My first fanfic, and an inner look into the emotions and desires preying on Frodo's mind.
1. The Finding of The Ring

It was to the heavy stillness of daybreak that Frodo awoke, an oppressive silence on an already weary and burdened heart. The darkness of night had melted into dawn, with no difference carried on the wings of the new day. Frodo turned his tired eyes to the sky, searching for some sign, some change on the winds, some relief from his sufferings. Sleep had eluded him, leaving him only the restless slumber of a tormented soul. There was no healing power in it, no refreshment from the previous night's sorrows. Absently, hungrily, his hand moved towards the chain hung from his neck, that glittering, terrible weight that was the source of his anguish. Unwillingly, his eyes turned to the light of gold, the round smoothness of the dull band. His fingers ceased their trembling as the caressed it, jealously, protectively. The exhaustion in the blue eyes had faded, replaced by a feverish glare that desired only one thing. They flickered suddenly, as the other figure across from them stirred uneasily, as though some unconscious sense had warned them of impending peril. Warily, the pale hand returned the Ring to it's place, hidden and unseen.

Dust fell on the still forms, and Frodo lifted his head as though in a dream, scarcely unaware of his actions. Another figure, wizened with age, swung down form its perch above them, a fiendish grin alighting the odd features.

"Wake up sleepies! We must go, yes, we must go at once!" the creature shook the other form, a small smile, almost to itself, as it did so.

Sam lifted his head, upon seeing his master's face, rose immediately, concern etched his face. "Haven't you had any sleep, Mr. Frodo?" he asked, pain creeping into his eyes. Frodo shook his head, his eyes locked on some object far away, beyond the darkness of Mordor. Haunted eyes, bearing the look of the hunted, fearful and helpless in his fear, in a battle that could end only in loss. Sam saw in that look more than exhaustion, he saw the secrets of his master's soul laid bare to his gentle heart. Guilt tugged at his conscience as he looked away from those staring eyes. "I've gone an 'ad too much...." He rose, more to escape than to look out, but the darkness caught his eye, and he faced the horizon. "Must be getting late."

"No, it isn't...it isn't midday yet...the days are growing darker." Frodo's eyes turned upwards, into the pale light, knowing from his own sufferings that drove away all hope of rest the hour in which his companion had woken. As if in response, the earth groaned, pitching them forward in a cruel jolt. Gollum, listening idly to their exchange, was now motivated by fear.

"Come on! Must go, no time!" panic crept into his voice, his limbs twitching under the exertion of restraint.

Sam turned away from the ill sight, focused only on the care for his weakened master.

"Not before Mr. Frodo's had something to eat." He knelt and began to unpack his bag, ignoring the growing agitation of their guide, who returned a short reply.

"No time to lose, silly!"

Sam lifted out a piece of bread, wrapped in fresh leaves and smelling of Elf country.

"Here." He handed it to Frodo, who's eyes brightened as he took it, faint memories of happier times relieving his heart. Frodo took several bites, trying to make the memories last, before his mind turned to his friend.

"What about you?" he asked, his eyes suddenly taking in his surroundings.

It was with a casual air that Sam replied, almost offhandedly, dissuading his master.

"Oh no, I'm not hungry...'least not for Lembas bread."

"Sam..." that one word, quietly spoken, touched Sam's heart, and he bowed his head.

"All right, we don't have that much left...We have to be careful, or we're goin' to run out." He carefully rearranged the remaining pieces. "You go ahead and eat that, Mr. Frodo. I've rationed it. There should be enough."

Frodo heard the resolve in Sam's voice and his eyes were questioning.

"For what?"

A tinge of hope and sadness mingled in Sam's voice as he responded quietly.  
  
"The journey home."


	2. Shadow of Fear

**Shirebound**: thank you for the kind review, and I hope that following chapters will be as satisfying, b/c I'm going to add a bit besides the movie

* * *

Frodo's strength waned as they struggled across the bleak wasteland that was Mordor. His steps had long ago ceased to carry the easy swiftness of a contented hobbit, now he stumbled over rocks and dirt, his lips moving silently in the fog that had overwhelmed him. What pale light had shone at dawn, it had been lost under the long, rolling darkness that spread like poisonous fumes over the three figures far below. Far ahead, creeping through the shadows, their guide moved rapidly over the ground in nervous haste, eyes darting every so often to the clouds as a cry pierced the silence.  
  
Sam followed as best he could, his eyes ever watchful for some sign of treachery. He held his tongue for his master's sake, but in his heart he could fell nothing but hatred for the loathsome creature that had entrusted. He had heard the deceit in Gollum's voice when first they met, a promise kept only until it had served his purposes. He had heard the change, the hissing, the agitated conflicts between the two: Slinker and Stinker, he called them. And now, he turned to look at his master-it had become a matter of surviving day by day.  
  
It no longer mattered to Frodo that he had fallen behind. His hand pushed feebly at the shadows, his hollowed eyes turning from sights the others could not see, one hand clutching the Ring about his neck. The weight, the endless, tiresome weight, dragged him down and caused him to stumble, rising each time more exhausted, more strained. He walked blindly, his eyes no longer seeing the shapes that rose up before him, only to fade away into the darkness...the ever lengthening darkness...  
  
A stone, hidden from his haunted gaze, fells him. He stumbled, and then let his weary body fall to the earth, his thoughts drifting away from all but his burden. His hand clenches as a scream rents the air, terror striking his heart with the dread he knows so well. For a moment, Frodo awoke from his waking slumber, turning to the glitter of gold. Another cry is carried on the air, and he stared up at the skies, jealously, suspiciously searching for the fell creatures that made it. With anxious movements, he thrust the Ring beneath his shirt, just as Sam reached his side.  
  
"We can't go on, Mr. Frodo- not with you in this state. Wait 'ere a moment, and I'll go get that Gollum."  
  
Frodo pushed himself up, taking in the small ledge upon which he lay, a small pool just beyond what little growth had managed to live here. It seemed far longer to him that Sam took in returning, and his hand moved automatically to cover the place where the Ring lay hidden. A last cry, louder than the others, reached his ears, and he fell back against the rocks, fiery lances of pain stemming from an old wound.  
  
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam appeared at his side, taking the limp hands in his. "You're safe, Mr. Frodo-they're heading back now-away from 'ere." Frodo opened his eyes, and saw Sam's gentle concern etched on his lined face.  
  
"They're calling it, Sam. They're calling it back to them...to Him..." he whispered. "They know it's here."  
  
"I know, Mr. Frodo, I know. I can 'ere them too." Sam sighed. "You should try to get some rest before we start again."  
  
"Master should listen to the fat hobbit. Master should keep up his strength, very nasty business ahead, we knows. Very long way into Mordor...very secret...yes, yes." Gollum had arrived, his long fingers pawing a Frodo's arm. "Sleep now, very nice, be very nice for Master."  
  
Sam backed away, his eyes shadowed in dislike and suspicion as Frodo turned to look at him.  
  
"We must keep going, Sam." His hand clenched, and Sam turned his eyes away from the sight, the evil he saw destroying his master.  
  
"Just sleep for a bit, Mister Frodo, and I'll catch a bit too. I reckon even Gollum would take some, if he could get it." Sam looked into the pale blue eyes of the fawning creature.  
  
"Yes, yes. Even Smeagol needs his rest. Very safe here in the dark, can't be seen by nasty Wraiths." Gollum backed away under the Sam's wrathful gaze, slightly away from the hobbits. "Good Smeagol, waiting for Master."  
  
Sam moved forward menacingly. "I'll sleep right 'ere, Mister Frodo, if you don't mind me saying so." He murmured, carefully lying down nearby. "I'd be happier if we'd never seen this 'orrid place."  
  
"So would I, Sam." Frodo closed his eyes wearily and dropped his head. "So would I." 


	3. Gollum's Villainy

**G and shirevbound:** Thank you for your wonderful support, and I hope you enjoy the third installment as much as the first two.  
  
This one was quite a bit harder to write, because of Gollum and Sméagol's conversation, so there is not as much description. I hope it is satisfactory.

* * *

The two hobbits had long since ceased to move, forms as still as the rock upon which they lay. Pale moonlight filtered through the ominous clouds, a piercing ray of hope in the deep of night. Not far from the hobbits, a third figure lay, hissing softly as it thrashed in a restless sleep.  
  
""Too risky...Too risky...Thieves! They stole It from us...kill them...kill them...kill them both!" With a cry, Gollum jerked upright, his pale eyes flashing in the darkness. His eyes darted nervously to the hobbits as Sam twisted uneasily in his sleep. Another being seemed to take over him, and it rebuked the other persona.  
  
"Shh! Quiet! Musn't wake them!" and then, quietly, "Musn't ruin it now!"  
  
Gollum crawled stealthily from his perch on the rocks, to a pool of water just beyond where the hobbits slept. A change came over him as both reflection and watcher met each other's eyes, and it was then that the two sides became clear. The meeker of the two sat nervously beside the water, speaking softly to the reflection, the darker, scheming side of himself.  
  
The weak side spoke nervously to the reflection. "But they knows! They knows! They suspects us!"  
  
The reflection was almost condescending as it replied. "What's it saying, my precious, my love? Is Sméagol losing his nerve?"  
  
"No! No! Never!" the meek side responded with horror, trying to rid itself of the prospect. Sméagol rose up, and took a deep breath, his entire being trembling with the effort. "Sméagol hates nasty hobbitses! Sméagol wants to see them...dead!" he nodded again, in a quick, excitable movement, as though assuring himself.  
  
The reflection's face was merciless. "And we will. Sméagol did it once; he can do it again." Gollum offered a grim smile.  
  
Sméagol's eyes sparked with inner fire. "It's ours!!! Ours!!!" Then, with anxious fervor, "We must get the Precious! We must get It back!"  
  
Gollum spoke shortly. " "Patience! Patience, my love." He stared into Sméagol's eyes with a foul grin. "First we must lead them to her."  
  
"We lead them to the winding stairs." Sméagol added.  
  
Gollum waited with infinite patience for his hasty pupil. "Yes, the stairs...and then?"  
  
"Up, up, up, up the stairs we go and then we come to...the tunnel." Sméagol whispered eagerly.  
  
It was with cold, evil malice that Gollum responded, his face devoid of all emotion. "And when they go in, there's no coming out." He turned his eyes to some distant vision. "She's always hungry. She always needs to feed. She must eat. All she gets is filthy orcses."  
  
Sméagol licked his lips nervously. "And they doesn't taste very nice, does they, precious?"  
  
"No, not very nice at all, my love." And then, absently, "She hungers for sweeter meats..."  
  
It was at this moment that some inner sense woke Sam from slumber. For a moment, he looked about, trying to define the reason for his apprehension, and then, his ears caught a faint sound. Voices drifted to him on the faintest breeze, one hissing, full of evil and animosity, the other weak and fawning. Gollum.  
  
Gollum's voice rasped harshly. "...hobbit meat. And when she throws away the bones and empty clothes, then we will find It!"  
  
Sméagol jerked upright and screeched aloud. "And take It for meeeee!!!"  
  
Anger flared in Gollum's eyes at these words. "For ussss."  
  
"Yes, we meant, we meant for us." Sméagol recoiled in fear from his reflection, and then lurched violently as his body seized around a single word. "_gollum_! _gollum_!"  
  
Gollum straightened up and stared into Sméagol's eyes. "The Precious will be ours...once the hobbitses are dead." He tossed a stone into the pool on the last word, watching the ripples in the pond drift away, only to reveal the shadowy form of Sam.  
  
Sam had listened far beyond what he had intended. His heart was consumed with fury and hatred for this creature that they had trusted. Whom his master had trusted. He would not let this foul villain lead him and Frodo to death. Scarcely aware of his actions, he stooped and flung a stone at Gollum's head. It went true, and Gollum cried out as he tumbled onto the ground.  
  
"You treacherous little thief!" he shouted, unable to contain his rage.  
  
Gollum turned about wildly, seeking some means of aid, and his gaze fell on the still-sleeping hobbit. "Argh! No! Master!"  
  
Even in dreams Frodo could not escape the evil of Mordor, he was trapped by the Ring and its dark power. Before his eyes he saw it, a wheel of fire burned forever into his vision, both beautiful and terrible in its beauty. Through the dream he heard sounds, muffled and distant, as though far beyond him. Again, they grew louder, and a sound pierced through the fog, bringing him sharply back to reality.  
  
It took only a moment for Frodo to realize what had happened, and despite his weakness, he sprang to his feet, his hand clasping the hilts of his sword. "No, Sam! Leave him alone!" he seized Sam's shoulder, pulling him away from the cowering Gollum.  
  
Sam turned to face him, his eyes bright. "I heard it from his own mouth; he means to murder us!!!" Hidden in his words, Frodo heard something else, something beyond Sam's anger. A plea, a faint hope that was slowing drifting away.  
  
Gollum heard only the accusation and screamed at them. "Never! Sméagol wouldn't hurt a fly!" By some strange irony, he clasped his head frantically, pulling away his hand to see none other than what had once been such a creature he had spoken of. He shrieked and pointed wildly at Sam. "He's a horrid fat hobbit who hates Sméagol and who makes up nasty lies!"  
  
Sam lunged at Gollum, his eyes blazing with rage. "You miserable little maggot! I'll throw your head in!" he tried to attack him, but Frodo, exercising the last of his strength, pulled him back.  
  
"Sam!" he tried to call his friend back to reason.  
  
His gaze still on Gollum, Sam struggled to free himself. "Called me a liar!" he shouted, and then, to Gollum, who attempted to hide behind a thin tree. "You're a liar!"  
  
Frodo clutched Sam's jacket, turning him around. Their eyes met, and Frodo tried to reason with him. "We scare him off, we're lost!"  
  
"I don't care!" Sam yelled, but his eyes softened, and the light of anger left his eyes, replaced by the brightness of tears. "I can't do it, Mr. Frodo! I won't wait around for him to kill us!" his voice broke.  
  
Frodo was adamant in his reply. "I'm not sending him away!"  
  
Sam's face grew suddenly tired, and the sadness borne of many days watching his old master and friend slip away was written plainly there. "You don't see it, do you? He's a villain."  
  
"We can't do this by ourselves, Sam. Not without a guide." Frodo spoke quietly, as though to assure his friend. Sam watched him then, searching for something he could not find. "I need you on my side."  
  
Sam heard his words with a sense of inner loss. "I'm on your side, Mr. Frodo."  
  
Frodo looked away, and then focused on Sam, a hint of his old self in his voice. "I know, Sam. I know." He looked deep into Sam's eyes, and Sam saw in them an appeal for help. "Trust me."  
  
Sam bowed his head, struggling to suppress the feelings striving in his heart. He could not argue with his master, and yet, he felt as though he had lost something very dear to him. He heard Frodo's voice through a wave of pain.  
  
"Come, Sméagol."  
  
Two words, and yet they had the power to break Sam's heart. Hurt reflected in his eyes as he saw Gollum take Frodo's outstretched hand, and he knew then that he had lost. Fear showed on Gollum's face, and Frodo turned, leading the creature with him. Gollum turned back for the merest of seconds, and Sam caught of glimpse of cruel, scheming grin.  
  
Sam nodded, almost to himself, as if in wretched acquiescence of such treachery, his eyes glittering with tears. He bent his head and followed behind them, the traitor traveling hand in hand with his master.


	4. Minas Morgul

**Shirebound**: I'm glad you liked the Smeagol/Gollum conversation. It was really hard to write, so I hoped I'd pull it off all right. Enjoy the fourth installment!  
  
**x-LadyoftheRing-x:** Glad you like it. If there's anything you think I'm missing-and this is for anyone who wants to review, please tell me. I'm trying to follow the movies because following the book would just be difficult with summer schedules, and honestly, a heckuva long story.  
  
**Nymredil72**: Smileys. Have fun drowning in Frodo happiness...  
  
One last note: I am leaving for Mexico on Sunday the 4th, so I will be unable to reach a computer for the entire week. I'm sorry, but it's mission work, so don't get too mad. I'll try to post a fifth and sixth installment so you'll have more to read. Also, I'm not sure when, precisely, but I'll also be leaving for DisneyWorld with my family sometime in July. So, there's my busy life, and I hope I can keep updating throughout the summer. Once the school year starts tho, I'm going to be a junior and heavily involved in drama and choir-so just warning you now.

* * *

It had been long since either hobbit had spoken, both filled with thoughts of their path ahead. What frail strength had come to Frodo from his brief rest had faded quickly, leaving him more weak and fragile than ever before. Each step was more difficult than the last, and his entire being could hardly bear up under the crushing weight of the Ring. The chain had begun to leave its mark upon his neck, the faintest hint of a red line encircling the pale skin. He stumbled once, his hand going immediately to his chest. This way he continued, one hand flung out for balance, the other jealously protecting what had become a single word in his mind, a twisted proof of the possession of his mind. Precious.  
  
Sam's thoughts had turned quickly to concern for Frodo, his gaze watchful as he saw his strength wane. At first, he had merely slowed his pace, walking side by side with his gardener in silent companionship. But then, his head began to bow under some invisible weight, and his breathing shallow, as though some great burden were pressing down on him. It was then that the old look shadowed his eyes, the distant gaze that bore a haunted appearance. The calm peace they had held in the Shire had long ago disappeared replaced by a darker, more sinister light. It was as though dim clouds had covered the brightness of the sky, an ominous storm that would never completely fade. Now he had fallen far behind, his steps heavy and slow. His shoulders bent under the strain of it, and yet he struggled onward, resolute in his quest. A low hiss from Gollum drew back his attention.  
  
"The Dead City." He murmured, crouching behind the edge of the long road beside them. He looked at Sam, who dropped low beside him and Frodo, who knelt beside them, his haunted gaze locked on the eerie glow of the city.  
  
"Very nasty place..." Gollum hissed softly, and turned his gaze to Sam. "Full of...enemies!" with this, he jumped up onto the road, his entire form tense and anxious. "Quick! Quick!" he motioned for them to follow. "They will see! They will see!"  
  
With this, he turned to the nearby rocks, beginning to ascend without difficulty. Frodo turned to look again towards the city, his gaze irresistibly drawn to stone beasts that guarded its entrance. Their blank eyes seemed to pierce his soul, and a cry, deaf to all but him, fell upon his ears.  
  
Gollum seemed to sense his hesitation, and called out to them. "Come away! Come away!"  
  
Frodo moved slowly, towards Sam, who watched him with shadowed eyes.  
  
"Look, look, we've found it: the way into Mordor!" Gollum looked at them like a dog, eager for praise from its master. "The secret stairs." It was then that they saw the impossible task set before them in its enormity. The stairs, the secret way, were indeed as Gollum had told them, but now, as they saw them, it as clear to them the reason for its concealment. The stairs were crudely cut into a sheer cliff face, rising far beyond what they could see, seemingly touching the clouds as they cut into the sky.  
  
"Climb...!"  
  
Sam turned back to look at Frodo, whose eyes had become a reflection of defeat. After all he had suffered, all he had borne, it had come to this, and endless task he could not hope to consider. He turned his face away, back to the Dead City as though drawn by some invisible force, staggering towards the forbidding gate. Whispers deafened him a he clutched the Ring, lost to the cries of his companions.  
  
"No! Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried out, his face covered in blank astonishment. He had known Mr. Frodo was suffering, but to completely forsake their task was unthinkable. He dropped from the rocks as Gollum's voice resounded in his ears.  
  
"Not that way!!!" he too let go, and they rushed towards him, Gollum shrieked utter shock. "What's it doing?!"  
  
Sam caught hold of Frodo's cloak and jerked him back, his eyes fearful of the City. Frodo tried to pull away, his eyes lit with the eerie gleam that arose from it. "No!...They're calling me..." Even Gollum tugged at his hand, pulling him away from Minas Morgul, dark terror in his pale eyes. It was then that a deep rumble issued from the heart of the City, shaking the earth with a menacing sound. Suddenly, all was silent, and as they held their breath, a jet of light shot up from the depths of the earth, up into the black clouds that covered the sky.  
  
The three had fallen back behind the road, safe for the moment. Frodo stared in horror at the light, his hand clutching the Ring. Between them, Sam and Gollum pulled him back behind an outcropping of rocks, where Frodo fell back, away from the City. Sam was unable to resist a glance, and peered nervously over the edge of the rocks. A black shape rose up from the darkness, and Sam fell back as he beheld the foul servant of Sauron, the Witch King, Lord of the Nazgûl. Gollum cowered against the rocks in terror, and Sam could not tear his gaze away from that Master of Evil, so close to where they lay.  
  
Frodo slumped down, unable to move as he clenched his teeth in pain, his head turned aside as his hand pressed tightly against his shoulder. A piercing, terrible scream rent the air, and he cried out, clutching his ear as he writhed in agony. Sam, too had fallen, his face twisted in a mask of suffering. Frodo could no longer bear the strain, and his hands fell, but the scream continued, and he cried out in anguish. His breath grew ragged as he was driven back in pain, his eyes splintered with agony.  
  
"I can feel his blade!" his gasped, unable to breathe. The Nazgûl's cry sounded again in his ears, and he cried out through clenched teeth. The sound of heavy footfalls reached their ears, and on the road, the Witch- King beheld his great army, an evil race red to serve only the purposes of the Dark Lord. Merciless and cruel, their very existence was to destroy the race of men. The Witch King, turned, and the great beast wheeled past them, so close them pressed themselves closer to earth in fear.  
  
Gollum hissed frantically into the darkness. "Hurry, hobbits! We climb! We must climb!" He turned, and in nervous haste, began to scramble up the rocks. Trembling violently, Frodo pulled himself up, and numbly moved to follow, already the dark haze of evil clouding his mind.  
  
Sam looked back only once, his gaze lost in the sea of creatures, moving swiftly towards to realm of Gondor. In his heart, he felt the pang of sorrow for his companions, for the remainder of the Fellowship, if they even lived. But the moment was fleeting, and he turned again to follow his master.

* * *

Hope you liked it. I've done two installments in one day now, and it's almost midnight, so be happy. :)

REVIEW!!!!


	5. The Stairs of Cirith Ungol

Frodo forced himself to continue moving, his eyes fixated on the next step above him. Some inner reserve provided the strength to go on, blindly following Gollum as he moved swiftly up the rocks. Sam followed closely behind him, cautiously moving upwards, his face carefully averted from the sheer drop below. Frodo turned back to look at him, reassured by his presence. Sam would always be there for him. He reached up for the next ledge, his fingers tightly gripping the stone, and he began to step upwards. He placed one foot on the step and as he pulled the other, his foot slipped.  
  
"Careful master! Careful!" Gollum's voice reached his ears, but he could scarcely make out the words.  
  
_No!_  
  
A voice cried out within him, whether it was his mind or the Ring he could not be sure, but he grasped the rock and held on, barely keeping his grip as he pulled himself back up. A low hiss of breath caught his ear, and he turned once again to Sam, who returned a quiet sigh of relief. He turned back to see Gollum looking down at him from a ledge just above them, crouching at the brink.  
  
"Very far to fall." He murmured, staring past them with pale eyes. "Very dangerous on the stairs..."  
  
Frodo felt suddenly weary, unable to force himself any farther. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, his mind clouding with exhaustion. He willed himself to move his hand, and clutched the ledge, falling forward against the stairs.  
  
"Come, master." Gollum called to him, and he pulled himself upwards. The Ring swung on its chain, falling out from under his shirt, revealed in the flickering light from the mountain. He shuddered, hearing again the dark voices which whispered to him in the deep of night, calling him, promising him all that he desired, if only he would take It for himself. Gollum's eyes brightened suddenly, gleaming with an unnatural light.  
  
"Come to Sméagol!" His finger moved across, towards Frodo, whispers sounding in his ears. Frodo was dimly aware of what was going on, struggling to get up, gasping for breath.  
  
Sam heaved himself up, mentally coaching himself onward. _Nearly there, Samwise. Don't give up on yourself now._ As he paused behind Frodo, he saw Gollum, his long fingers nearly touching the Ring. Frodo was leaning against the rock, his breath coming in shallow gasps. _It's got him._ Sam thought, and whether he meant the Ring or Gollum he wasn't sure.  
  
"Mister Frodo!" he called out, and Gollum lunged forward, as though awakening form a dream. "Get back, you! Don't touch him!" Sam shouted, and drew his sword with his free hand. Gollum frowned, and then turned back to Frodo. Sam's heartbeats thudded in his ears as Gollum reached forward...  
  
Frodo felt Gollum's fingers close on his arm, and relief spread through his body as he relaxed against the welcome aid. Gollum pulled him up, and he collapsed, his entire body trembling as his eyes fluttered in an effort to retain consciousness. He breathed heavily, the voice of the Ring echoing in his ears. Vaguely, he realized that he was clasping the Ring, Gollum's voice ringing faintly above him.  
  
"Why does he hates poor Sméagol?! What has Sméagol ever done to him?!" Gollum sneered at Sam, who sheathed his sword, his face twisted in a mask of loathing and suspicion. He watched as Gollum scrambled to Frodo's side, and his heart ached with pain. _You should be there, Samwise, that ain't his place. Calling him master. He's a villain...  
_  
Frodo could hardly catch his breath, his eyes burning with tears as he tried to fight the call of the Ring. _No._ One word, over and over in his mind, a single thread that he clung to, straining against the growing will that promised rest for his weary soul.  
  
"Master..."  
  
Frodo heard Gollum's voice from a distance, and he listened to it, clinging to consciousness. The once cold voice was now gentle, and he felt the faint touch of fingers on his arm.  
  
"Master carries a heavy burden...Sméagol knows...Heavy, heavy burden..." Gollum's voice was soft, and Frodo turned reddened eyes to look at him, burning with exhaustion and tears. He could feel the weight of the Ring dragging him down, and he heard Gollum's words with relief. _Yes... heavy. Gollum. He has borne it, he knows..._Frodo thought wearily. A sound came from behind them, and Gollum looked swiftly at Sam's figure rising over the edge. "Fat one cannot know." He whispered, laying himself down beside Frodo, his pale eyes searching. "Let Sméagol look after master." He looked again at Sam. "He wants It. He needs It, Sméagol sees it in his eyes!"  
  
Frodo, who had barely heard Gollum before, heard his last words with a rush of fury. _No! It's mine! My own! He cannot take It!_ His grip tightened on the Ring, and he stared back at Gollum with suspicion in his eyes. _It's true..._he thought as he stared at him. _Why else would he have offered to come along..._Frodo closed his eyes, another voice stirring within himself. _Because he cares for you. Sam has never been anything but your friend, before you had the Ring..._  
  
Gollum saw the doubt in Frodo eyes and hissed quietly. "Very soon he will ask you for It! You will see!"  
  
Confusion clouded Frodo's mind, and he looked away. _He's wrong, Sam's my friend. He would never try to take It..._his breathing quickened as the Ring whispered to his tormented soul. _Do you think he does not also desire it? Would he allow it to fall into the fire? No!  
_  
"The fat one will take It from you!" Gollum whispered furtively. Frodo whirled around, his grip on the Ring tightening protectively. He searched Sam's face, and the concern he saw there twisted into hunger, his gentle eyes glaring as they locked on the one thing he sought to preserve. _He wants It..._Frodo drew back in hatred and revulsion from the figure struggling to climb up beside them. Gollum had been right, since the beginning. It was not Sam-it had never been Sam who was his friend, only Gollum. It was Sam who wanted it, who hungered for it and called to him from the darkness of sleep. His eyes, red from exhaustion and suffering widened as the whispers resounded in his ears.  
  
_It was him..._


	6. The Parting of Sam and Frodo

Alrighty, people! I'm back, for now. School starts on the 18th, and I'm going to be a junior with two AP classes and drama, so please don't be upset with me if I don't update frequently. Anyay, what I wanted to say was: Do not be mad about this chapter. I debated whether to keep true to the book or to continue with the movie, and I reached a decision. As I've been keeping with the movie script, I decided to stay with that, and my second reasoning here is also that I really would feel awkward trying to write along with Tolkien's work, and so I took the movie scene. Yes, I know this is not in the book, and yes, know this is one of the most heartwrenching and painful scenes to sit through in the entire movie. Please forgive me if you don't like what I've chosen to do, but based on my time frame, I really do much better with a script to follow. Thanx for keeping with me. You all are awesome-and Pippin, I will be excited to see Fangirl Conversion.

(Thank you for the reviews. They make my day. Nothing like finding a positive review on your e-mail in the morning.)

arwenfrodogurl

* * *

The harsh winds that fell from the dark slopes of Orodruin tortured the still figures that sought refuge on the Stairs. Whispers hung on the air, dark words that spoke into the secret harbors of their minds. Frodo had fallen where he lay, his wearied body unable to fight any longer. Sam had seen the suspicion in his eyes as he pulled himself over the edge of the steps. Now Sam lay a short distance away, leaning against the unforgiving rock. _Steps. More like sheer cliff, that is. _He thought in mild disgust. _I'll bet that Gollum's up to something-the way he was whispering to Mr. Frodo like that. _Sam turned his gaze to look at him, watching for some sign of treachery. His own eyes grew heavy with sleep, and for a moment they closed. _Hold up, Samwise! _He shook himself at stared again at Gollum. _What's your plan, Stinker? I know you're up to something, even if Mr. Frodo doesn't..._his eyes closed, and Sam gave in to his exhaustion.

For a moment, the foul winds ceased, and the only sounds were the harsh rasping of Gollum's breath upon the earth. His long fingers had stopped their grasping, searching in sleep for the one thing that had evaded his grasp. Like a spark in the thick of night, two pale blue orbs lit the darkness, turning swiftly to the sleeping hobbit below him. A low hiss of satisfaction escaped his throat as he leapt down from his perch, reaching deep into the bag nearby. He pulled out a thin, leaf-wrapped package, choking on the pervading smell of the Elves. Nasty they was, capturing Gollum and forcing him to follow them. He had escaped, yes, but the stink of them had lingered long after he had gone. And then-the wizard...he hissed again, and his eyes contracted in the dark. Yes, very dangerous...his hand clutched the small wrapping, and slowly, picked off a small piece, crumbling it in his hands. The stink was going to smell on his nice hands, but the hobbits couldn't smell that. The crumbs began to fall, littering the soft green of the cloak clinging so tightly to the sleeping figure. Gollum drew back as Sam stirred, and then turned away, tossing the leaf package and bread into the air, watching them fall away into darkness. He dusted off his hands, still stinking of elf-country.

"Where are you off to?" Sam's voice cut through the air like a knife, and Gollum whirled around. "Sneaking off, are we?" Sam cursed his weakness, knowing the ill their guide was capable of.

Gollum shook his head in astonishment, as if unable to comprehend such an accusal. "Sneaking?" he made a slight noise as if in shock. "Sneaking?! Fat hobbit is always so polite. Sméagol shows them secret ways that nobody else could find and they say sneak." He spat out the word like poison. "Sneak? Very nice friend. Oh yes, my precious, very nice, very-"

Sam cut him short, feeling only slightly ashamed. "All right, all right. You just startled me, that's all." He paused, staring at Gollum's hunched form. "What _were_ you doing?"

Gollum let out a hiss that might have been a laugh. "Sneaking." He half snarled the word at Sam, who turned to Mr. Frodo in disgust.

"Fine. Have it your own way." He retorted, and knelt beside his master. "I'm sorry to wake you, Mr. Frodo, but we have to be moving on."

Frodo's shuddered, unable to discern the blackness before him from his tortured dreams. Gollum. Gollum had been telling him something, and then-the Ring had spoken, whispering promises that his were slowly destroying his resistance. He closed his eyes again, seeking refuge from the darkness that was haunted his dreams and waking thoughts, forever tormenting his mind until all was lost in the endless fires of the Eye.

His voice was quiet and exhausted as he opened his eyes. "It's dark still." He murmured, wondering if his soul would ever find relief.

Sam could scarcely bear to look at Frodo. Each day he bore the marks of the Ring's strain upon his mind, and each day Sam saw the toll it had taken upon him. Soon, it would consume him, and Sam feared that day more than anything he had ever faced.

"It's always dark here." He muttered, staring out at the bleakness before them. In his heart, he heard Frodo's plea. _Where there is no light, where can there be hope? _Sam thought miserably, and knelt beside his pack. At least they still had the Elven bread. It always helped, even in this foul night that was Mordor, it lightened their spirits, if only for a moment. He searched blindly for it with his hand, and a sudden fear gripped him, and he grasped the bag tightly, his face mirroring his shock. "It's gone! The Elven bread!" his voice held a note of despair. Their last lifeline, their last link to the world beyond this blackness was gone.

Frodo's eyes reflected utter pain, and he stared at Sam. "What? That's all we have left!" he cried, and he stepped unsteadily backward, as if felled by a heavy blow. He breathed heavily, his sufferings and weakness no longer held at bay. Sam was nearly in tears, and suddenly leapt to his feet in rage.

"He took it!" he yelled, and pointed at Gollum in fury. "He must have!"

Gollum stared up at Sam with incomprehension in his pale eyes. "Sméagol? No, no, not poor Sméagol. Sméagol hates nasty elf's bread." He rubbed his head and looked blankly at Sam, who could scarcely contain himself.

"You lying rat!" he shouted, anger and hate for Gollum welling up within him. "What did you do with it?"

Frodo had barely heard the exchange, and he could hardly stand, so great a strain that pressed upon his mind. Vaguely, he heard Sam's accusation, and he turned his eyes upward, focusing on his words. "He doesn't eat it. He can't have taken it." He heard again Gollum's words in his mind, and he stopped in astonishment. _"He wants It. He will try to take it from you...Heavy, heavy burden...fat one cannot know...he wants It!"_ Frodo stumbled backwards as Gollum spoke suddenly.

"What's this?" Frodo stared in shock as the crumbs fell from Sam's jacket. _No...it **can't** be..._Gollum dropped down beside him and tugged at his cloak. "Crumbs on his jacketsesss. He took it!" _Yes...it was Sam..._ "He took it! I've seen him! Always stuffing his face when Master is not looking!" _No..._Frodo stared at Sam. _Yes...it's true. Why else have you suffered, barely slept in your dreams. Even he admitted it. "You barely eat," he said-because he takes it himself, not for you. If you fall, that would leave the Ring for him! _

Sam saw the doubt in Frodo's eyes then, and lunged at Gollum. "That's a filthy lie! You stinkin' filth face!" he shouted.

Frodo suddenly jerked, as though awakening, and grappled with Sam. "Sam! Stop it!" he forced what little strength he had to reason with his friend. "No, Sam!"

"I'll kill him!" Sam was beyond aid, and he shouted furiously at Frodo.

"No, Sam!" Frodo's grip suddenly weakened, and he dropped to the ground, breathing heavily, his hand seeking the protective touch of the Ring. Whispers spoke to him, and his head fell back against the rock as he gasped for air, fighting the darkness that was enclosing his mind.

"Oh my! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it to go so far!" Sam was instantly apologetic, dropping beside Frodo in his misery. "I was just so, so angry. Here. You just...just rest a bit." He said helplessly, inwardly reproaching himself. _As if any rest in the world will heal him, Samwise. You know it's all your fault, letting yourself get stirred up by a wretch like Gollum. And now look, he can't hardly stand, you've seen the way he suffers, 'ardly able to go on at all anymore. _

Frodo closed his eyes. He knew Sam hadn't meant anything by it...he was just so weary... "It's all right." He whispered.

Sam bowed his head, his voice breaking. "No, no you're not all right. You're exhausted. It's that Gollum. It's this place. It's that thing around your neck." Frodo's eyes flew open, and the darkness fell away, his hand clutching the Ring as he stared wildly at Sam. "I could help a bit." Sam offered. "I could carry it for awhile." Sam's voice echoed in his head, and Frodo's vision dimmed. "Carry it for awhile..._He wants It..._I could carry it..._He needs it..._carry it_...wants it..._share the load..._wants..._the load..._wants..._the load..._take It!_

"Get away from me!" Frodo pulled the Ring away, away from this traitor who leered and pawed at him with hungry eyes. It had been Sam. It was true- he wanted it, he would keep it for himself...

"I don't want to keep it!" Sam cried out at the change that came over Frodo. "I just want to 'elp!" he fell back at the dark anger that clouded Frodo's eyes. Gollum appeared behind Frodo like a wraith, his voice piercing through Frodo's mind.

"See? See? He wants it for himself!"

Sam charged at Gollum. "Shut up! Go away-get out of here!" he shouted.

Frodo stared at Sam in dawning comprehension, a dark loathing filling his heart as he staggered to his feet. "No, Sam." _He had been wrong since the beginning..._ "It's you..."

Sam choked as tears stung his eyes. "But he's a liar." His voice cracked with hurt as he looked at his beloved master and friend. "He's poisoned you against me."

Frodo felt the darkness descend upon him like a veil as he saw Sam for his true treacherous ways. _It had always been him...he had followed for that single purpose, just like Boromir...and all the others..._Frodo felt a pang of regret through his anger, which he fiercely pushed away, amidst the pain that tore at his tortured heart. "You can't help me any more."

Tears scalded Sam's cheeks as he looked upon the thing that Frodo had become. The Ring hung from his neck, dangling before Sam's eyes, and for an instant, it burned like a circle of flame. Sam looked up, hardly able to speak through his grief. "You don't mean that."

Frodo's eyes hardened, and he shook his head. "Go home." With those words, he turned, and Sam watched in anguish as his master slowly forced himself to climb up the Stairs. Gollum followed, pausing to stare at Sam with a sinister grin, having achieved his goal-to separate the last remaining defense between himself and the Ring.

He lay there, unable to hide from the pain and the hurt any longer; finally forsaken by his friend he had loved and cared for through all of his sufferings. The bitter wind tore at Sam's unprotected form, and there, alone in the darkness of Mordor, he wept.


End file.
